What the Duke Wants

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What the Duke Wants Page 19

by Kristin Vayden


  Which she willingly gave, with every last piece of her heart. Pressing into him she disregarded every warning she ever heard about acting like a lady and owned him with her kiss. As if tasting her answer, he deepened the exchange, his arms wrapping around her till every line of his was flush with hers, warming her, setting her on fire.

  Gasping he broke the kiss. Hovering just a breath away from her lips. “Consider yourself properly compromised, Carlotta,” he whispered.

  “Indeed. Does your offer to make me an honest woman still stand? I seem to find myself in need of redemption,” she murmured back, her cheeks flushed with her forward manner, but not repentant in the least for her actions, brazen as they were.

  “No, the redeeming will be you’re doing, not mine. I, however, will indeed save your surely blackened reputation. Even black knights sometimes ride white horses, my love.”

  Rather than answer, she lifted herself up on her tiptoes and placed a warm kiss to the edge of his jaw. “Then it is a very good thing you obtained a special license, your grace.”

  “You have no idea,” he groaned and pulled her into a tight embrace, his nose burying in her hair, his warm breath tickling her scalp as he inhaled deeply.

  “If I may be so bold?” Mr. Burrows interrupted.

  The duke loosened his grip only slightly, turning he faced his solicitor, pulling Carlotta with him. It was as if he was afraid to let go.

  She knew the feeling.

  “Since I have all Miss Standhope’s signatures, I’ll simply await your notification after the wedding, your grace, to finalize a settlement on your new wife. I’ll now take my leave. He bowed then turned to Lord Darby. “My Lord, thank you for your willingness to assist.”

  “Assist?” the duke asked.

  “Yes… it would seem that you have quite a few friends who wish to secure your happiness. I’ll let your wards explain the rest. Good-day.”

  Both gentlemen quit the room, leaving Carlotta quite alone with the duke.

  Though she shouldn’t be quite surprised.

  She was a ruined woman after all.

  “The girls?” she turned to the duke.

  Charles narrowed his eyes slightly, as he stared at the wall. His expression was one of deep thought. “Were you… you weren’t forcibly taken from Greenford Waters, were you?”

  Carlotta shook her head, confusion fogging her mind.

  “And you weren’t planning on marrying Darby.”

  At this, she blushed and glanced away.

  “Bloody hell.”

  “I wasn’t going to marry him… I was simply offered the option.” Shrugging her shoulders, she bit her lip.

  “I think… that those three girls are possibly more meddlesome than Lady Southridge.” He smirked, his expression humbled yet elated all at once.

  “How so?”

  “Oh, they put on quite the performance. Tears and all. Though I can’t find it in my heart to be angry with them. After all, the outcome was quite perfect.” He smiled down at her.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. They gave me the excuse I needed to hunt you down and take you for my own prisoner.”

  “Had I no choice in the matter?” she teased.

  “No, none. I believe I made sure of that.”

  “Indeed you did.” She kissed his soft lips, savoring the rightness of his caress to the small of her back as he pressed her in closer, deepening the kiss by the intimate flick of his wicked tongue on the edge of her lower lip. Sighing her surrender, she pressed in further, committing the intoxicating flavor of his passion to memory as he groaned, his touch growing less gentle and far more demanding.

  He groaned between his fierce kisses that were delightfully causing the glowing embers of desire to lick at her heels and threaten to consume her. His hands roamed freely, as if he was going blind and desperately trying to memorize each curve of her hip, the shape of her shoulders, the length of her neck, the weight of her—

  She gasped as his hand caressed her breast, causing the burn of passion to immediately grow to an inferno. “Your grace…” she whispered, part plea for more and part plea for him to stop.

  “Charles,” he whispered against her lips, lowering his hand till it met the other in tracing her waist.

  “Charles.” She tasted the honey of his name on her lips, the intimacy of it was deeper than any kiss. It was a statement of her claim on his heart, the claim he had over hers.

  “As I see it, there are two options available,” he spoke silkily as he caressed her lips temptingly.

  “Only two?” she teased, before leaning in for more of his kiss.

  “Really I’d prefer to offer only one, but I find that being an engaged man has changed my morality for the better.” He chuckled, breaking the kiss and gazing intently into her eyes. Mischief and desire waltzed with his expression, the perfect couple.

  “That doesn’t sound at all like you.” Carlotta reached up and traced his jaw with her fingers.

  “Damn you’re making this difficult.”

  “What difficult?”

  “Being… good.”

  “Being good?”

  “Yes, when all I want to do is show just how very wicked I can be. Because, love…” He leaned in, bending down he tugged on her frock till her creamy shoulder was exposed. As he exhaled over the skin, she immediately broke out in goose bumps from the heat then chill of his breath on her skin.

  Then he kissed her, tasted her really. Lingering on her flesh as if savoring the flavor. Running the edge of his nose up the curve of her neck, he nipped, and teased the overly sensitive flesh with his tongue and teeth, causing Carlotta to forget what they were even talking about.

  “As you can see, I can be quite wicked indeed. But this is not nearly, wicked enough for my taste. Which is exactly…” He paused at her jaw, moved his hands around till they cupped her bottom, swiftly pulling her in flush against him. ”…why we need to leave. Because the only two options are leaving back to Greenford Waters so your girls can watch you get married, or for me to marry you here and I do not see a vicar in the room. Though to be fair, I haven’t actually looked. I haven’t wanted to look anywhere but at you.”

  Carlotta closed her eyes, letting his words, his touch wash over her. Like a warm and welcome spring rain, she soaked in the meaning, and realized anew how she was in sole possession of his heart.

  And she had neglected to say something very important.

  “I love you,” she whispered the words, pledging them, vowing to protect his heart and guard it like the most sacred treasure.

  Opening her eyes she glanced up, slightly shy. His blue eyes danced in victory, in joy. A fierce light illuminated his blue depths and almost stole her breath with the masculine beauty he possessed.

  All because she had spoken the truth.

  Perhaps, it did really set one free. Better yet, it set others free as well. As she lost herself in his gaze, she realized that he had been waiting for that very admission from her lips.

  But not once did he push her, which went against his very nature.

  “You no longer have two options. One, I’m leaving you one, and then we’re leaving.” His voice was thick with restraint.

  “Oh? And what if I wish to stay?” She dared to admit the deepest desires of her heart.

  “Then I will certainly fall under the temptation to take every inch of you, Lottie. But in doing so, I’ll simply be acting as in my nature and you deserve far better than that. So, I beg of you, help me to keep my honorable intentions and let’s be off. As it is, it will be dark when we arrive back home.” He caressed her face lightly.

  Home.

  It was amazing how one word could open up so many emotions. Home was no longer Garden Gate, it was with him. He was her home.

  Then let us be off,” she murmured.

  “Thank God, and before you scold me, that was indeed a very reverent prayer.”

  Carlotta laughed.

  “I find nothing humorous about this situation,
madam!” But he grinned as he swept her up and all but ran out the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When they arrived at Greenford Waters, it was full dark and he was concerned that Lottie was perhaps catching a chill. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, pulling her soft body into his own, furthering his damnable need for her to extreme proportions. But his desire was secondary, first on his mind was her care. It was amazing how one person could become a man’s whole world. His vision was tinted with the intense desire to protect her, care for her, love her. Every other emotion or need fell away in light of it.

  And she had chosen him.

  Rather, she had let him choose her.

  And it was quite perfect.

  “Are you too cold?” he asked, again. Honestly, he had lost track of how many times he had asked that very question.

  “Yes, I’m quite warm, your grace.”

  “Charles.”

  “Charles.” She still spoke his name shyly, as if she couldn’t quite believe she was saying it.

  And every time she did say it, his heartbeat quickened and his body ached for her with a need he had never experienced.

  Strangely enough, as delirious with desire as he had been this past evening, he had never found restraint easier.

  Odd that.

  At first, he had assumed it stemmed from the nature of his proposal. He’d never live it down once the word reached London.

  But he couldn’t care less.

  As the shock wore off, he realized that his newfound powers of self-control stemmed from the fierce desire to protect her. Love had a way of changing the way a man saw things. When he thought about his past, he repressed the need to cringe. He wanted nothing of his past, his selfish and self-seeking nature to touch her, no. She was not one of the other countless women who had shared his bed for a night or two— she was different. She wouldn’t be visiting his bed, but making it her bed too. He’d wake up with her every morning, have the delight of loving her, every delicious inch of her, each night. With the sun, she’d not disappear discretely, nor would she need her own apartment where he’d visit on his leisure. She’d bear their children, grow grey with him and nag him when they were both too old and deaf to hear each other.

  The future had never looked so bright.

  It was that very future that caused his restraint to be ironclad. Because this new life, new beginning was going to remain as perfect as he was able. Which demanded he wait.

  And if anything spoke of the depth of his love, it was that he was determined to wait until they were married before he took her.

  That wait alone might kill him.

  But at least he’d die knowing he was honorable—for her.

  Because in the end, it all came back to her.

  After dismounting, he pulled her forward, kissing her deeply, searchingly till he could taste the honey of her desire filling his senses. Reluctantly, he released her and tugged on her hand while she stumbled dazedly toward the entrance.

  Before they made it to the side entrance, the large wooden door swung open and the three girls rushed forward, running. If not for his intervention, they surely would have knocked his beloved Lottie to the ground.

  Her smile was breathtaking, almost too beautiful to look at. Like staring at the sun, her face was lit up by the light flooding out from the wide open door.

  All he could do was stare.

  “Girls!” she shouted, her voice full of joy, relief.

  They all hugged her at once, Berty, being Berty, was completely engulfed in her skirts while the two older girls hugged her waist. With tender caresses, she patted their heads, cupped their faces, and kissed their cheeks.

  She would be a great mother.

  Charles felt his grin grow wide.

  A mother to his children.

  Yes, it was a wonderful night.

  “You’re here! Oh, thank heavens! Charles how ever did you do it?” Lady Southridge exclaimed as she came out to meet them.

  “It took some convincing,” he replied, rocking back on his heels.

  “Oh?”

  Carlotta raised an eyebrow. “He was quite persuasive, Lady Southridge.”

  “Indeed I was.” He met her warm gaze.

  “And I have wonderful news. Tomorrow there will be a wedding.” He spoke, not once taking his eyes from her.

  “What? Hooray!” Berty jumped up and down, dancing. Then paused. “Wait… who’s getting married?” She glanced at Lottie, then him, questioning.

  “I am, Berty.” Carlotta rushed forward and grasped the little girl’s hands, spinning her around and pulling her into a tight hug.

  “You are? To the duke? Oh, please tell me it’s to the duke! We were trying so hard to—”

  “Berty!” Bethanny’s eyes widened.

  “Yes, to the duke, Miss Berty.” He chuckled. “And Bethanny, don’t think we didn’t see right through you.” She had the good grace to look abashed.

  “Oh, he didn’t see through it till he had made quite a scene though, for that I thank you girls.” Carlotta reached out and waited until the other girls joined her embrace.

  “Quite a scene, Charles? It seems you have a story to tell.”

  “It’s quite a story, Lady Southridge. As it is, I doubt he’ll want to grace the door of White’s for quite some time,” Carlotta teased, giving him a saucy grin.

  His body coiled in tension, flaming to life and all it took was one smile. Just one night. He reminded himself. He only needed to practice restraint for one more night.

  Perhaps he spoke too soon, rather thought too soon, about the whole restraint thing.

  Maybe there was something to be said for impatience.

  But as soon as the traitorous thought traveled across his imagination, he forced himself into check once more.

  He would wait. He would.

  But bloody hell if that smile of hers made it almost impossible.

  “Well are we going to stand out here all night or can we go inside and hear the whole sordid tale?” Lady Southridge asked teasingly.

  “Romantic, it was quite romantic,” Carlotta corrected with a wink towards him.

  Of course, when he was practicing herculean self-control, the temptress unveiled herself.

  He should have known.

  “Of course.” Charles gestured towards the door. Knowing he had the longest night in his life stretching out endlessly before him.

  ****

  He was right, the night went on forever.

  And ever.

  And then stretched longer still, until he was sure that God was holding off dawn just to spite him.

  Though it would be quite merciful if he simply was holding off dawn when Charles knew he deserved far worse.

  So he didn’t complain, too much.

  Finally, when the darkness was gaining the faintest touch of light, he rose and walked to the library. Immediately the memories from the past evening overtook him. The girls had admitted to a bit of planning… and stretching of the truth.

  A lot of stretching, in his opinion.

  They had been chided, without any heat to the scolding, and sent to bed after the tame version of the story. The version that didn’t include his quite ruining kiss in front of his solicitor and fellow peer of the realm.

  Although, he was surprised to discover the depth of the girl’s involvement. It seemed that they had been conniving even before they left London, seeing the expression in his eyes, they said. He should quit playing cards at Whites, being in love made him easy to read, apparently. They further admitted to cornering Mr. Burrows and ironically, soliciting his aid. Mr. Burrows then explained that he’d have to speak with Lord Darby and well… the rest was history.

  Quite humbling history, but history nonetheless.

  Lady Southridge demanded the unedited version of their tale as soon as the girls left, and cackled in glee when she learned the desperate measures he had taken to insure Lottie’s hand.

  Her eyes rested on Lottie as she took he
r hand. “I’m so thankful he found you, so thankful.”

  Charles felt the need to clear his throat… just because he was in love didn’t mean he necessarily wanted to wade in feminine emotions all evening. And if he didn’t distract Lady Southridge, it would be a long and emotional evening indeed.

  Thankfully, she took his hint and left them alone shortly after.

  Alone.

  For heaven’s sake, the woman was mad.

  Or maybe just desperate to make sure Carlotta was ruined enough to never make another escape.

  Either way the temptation was enough to make him cross-eyed.

  And he was far too pretty to be cross-eyed.

  So he did the honorable thing, gave Carlotta a quick kiss, whispered, “I love you,” and demanded that she lock her door.

  And put a chair in front of it.

  And if possible, her bed pushed against it as well.

  Then he went to his own room, locked his own door, and stared at it. Trying very hard not to imagine what it would take to scale the outside wall and make it to her room alive.

  But of course, the time he tried not to think of something, was the time that he could only think of that very thing,

  In every possible way.

  Which was why he was still awake after that eternal night, and was now pacing the library, trying very hard not to imagine what she looked like with her golden hair resting across her pillow, her eyes softly closed in sweet blissful slumber, or how seductive her expression would be when woken up with a morning kiss.

  He groaned in agony. When did a vicar awaken? He glanced outside, noting the increasing light on the horizon. Maybe an hour more? He could survive an hour. One hour.

  Sixty minutes.

  But not one moment more.

  ****

  Carlotta couldn’t sleep. Every time she tried to close her eyes, his gaze would come into focus, stealing her breath and making her want to pinch herself. Just to make sure it was real.

  All of it.

  Biting her lip, she remembered his determined stride as he commanded her kiss, not caring for his own reputation but wanting her, needing her so badly that he was willing to do anything to have her.

 

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